


Turn Around

by tellthenight



Series: Rebuild 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Post-Canon, human!Cas, life after hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellthenight/pseuds/tellthenight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel brings up Sam Dean walks out. There are a lot of things they never talk about, and Sam is one of them.</p><p>Castiel waits, but as time moves forward with no contact from Dean he reaches out to Sam for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Around

Cas woke early, but he always woke early now. Dean was wiped out from long days at the garage and all his free time spent working on the house one room at a time. He gave Cas work to do too, but Cas was limited in his handyman skills. He was learning though, and as much as it was their house, it was really Dean’s. He was the one who found the neglected place and recognized the potential. He was the one who made the plans and picked every piece and read up on every skill he needed to make the house theirs. Dean needed to rehab the place with his own two hands, and Cas wasn’t going to get in the way of that kind of therapy.

 

He went into the little room across the hall that was meant to be a bedroom, but served as his office. He had exams to grade from two classes and he started at the top of the stack. Cas became so immersed in his work that he didn’t hear Dean behind him until he was almost to his chair. Dean put his arms around Cas’s chest from behind and rested his forehead on Cas’s shoulder.

 

“You still have paint in your hair,” Cas said, helpful as usual.

 

“You try painting fucking ceilings and not getting paint in your hair.”

 

“I wasn’t complaining.”

 

Dean looked up. “You want to go look at hardware for the kitchen today?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “You know what? You never laugh when I say shit like this and you probably should. You should tell me how crazy all this is and all the reasons we shouldn’t be doing this.”

 

“The house? It’s a little late for that. We already bought it.”

 

“I know- I just… you never call me crazy.”

 

“Because you’re not crazy.” Cas twisted in his seat to kiss him. “Did you call Sam yet?”

 

Dean stood up and paced the small room.

 

“You said you’d do it yesterday,” Cas reminded.

 

“So I’ll do it today, okay? It doesn’t matter yesterday or today. And he’s busy and doesn’t need to know our everyday stuff.”

 

“He should probably know that we’ve been living less than three hours away from him for a couple months.”

 

Dean walked out without even a glance back.

 

There were a lot of things they never talked about, and Sam was swiftly becoming one of those things. He had left them months ago to go back to the bunker in Lebanon and resume hunting. The last time Cas had spoken to him over the phone Sam was acting mostly in a research capacity unless a hunt was fairly local to him. He’d made himself available to the hunting community again and they were taking full advantage.

 

Cas looked in their bedroom first, then downstairs before he found Dean in the half-finished kitchen. He didn’t say anything, but poured himself coffee from the pot Dean had made and sat at their little thrift store purchased table. Dean was still leaned against the wall staring at nothing when he spoke.

 

“He’s going to want to know why we moved and-”

 

“And you don’t have to tell him anything. He wants you to be okay, Dean.”

 

Dean shook his head. “We can never pay Sammy back.”

 

“He doesn’t want us to pay him back. He wanted to make sure we were out of the life and could support ourselves.”

 

That sent Dean silent and off to brood again. At Christmas Sam had presented them both with proper documentation. Social security numbers, passports, birth certificates, even a college education for Cas. Dean was no longer dead, Cas (now Castiel Smith) was legally human, and that meant they had real options. Dean hadn’t been able to talk to Sammy about it for all of Christmas day. It was too much, but it was exactly what they needed. All Dean could think of was the mini fortune it must have cost Sam to get that kind of documentation in place and that left him too choked up to speak. In the months since Sam had left it had become a giant sink hole topic. Every day that Dean didn’t call and talk to Sam about it, he felt even more like he couldn’t call about it, and it circled around like that until it was a few months later without so much as a word between them. Cas had spoken to Sam several times since then, but Dean found himself paralyzed at the thought.

 

Cas refilled his mug and went back upstairs to the little office, leaving Dean downstairs to sulk on the couch. He’d say something later, maybe over lunch and they’d go get whatever hardware he wanted and Dean would relax again. Cas got through a few more exams before he heard Dean on the stairs and then the shower running in the hall bathroom.

 

Maybe that was all he needed to get himself together and they’d get everything worked out- finally move forward on their little Sam problem. He got back into grading and realized a little too late that the front door had slammed closed and by the time he made it down the stairs to look out the front window he heard the sound of the Impala from the end of the street.

 

He didn’t recognize how long he’d been standing there until his cell rang from upstairs and even then he didn’t start to move until it had rung a few times and he had to run up the stairs to grab it before it went to voicemail.

 

“Dean- I don’t know why you-”

 

“Oh, hey- hey. It’s Sam. Everything okay?”

 

“Oh.” Cas sank down onto the bed. “Sam. Hi.”

 

“Is this a bad time?”

 

“No. No. Go ahead. Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah. I just have a hunt out that way that I’m going to come help on and I thought I’d come through after. Wanted to give you a heads up. I’m thinking maybe a week or so from now?”

 

“Um, you know, Sam…  you should talk to Dean first.”

 

Sam laughed, but then dropped it quick. “Wait- are you serious? Is he actually going to talk to me?”

 

“I…” Cas wasn’t sure what he could say without Dean losing it. “I’m trying to get him to. He feels very indebted and-”

 

“I’m just coming then. If I see him face to face then he’ll have to say something. Look for me early next week and I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way to you.”

 

“Wait, Sam-”

 

“No, Cas. I get that you’re trying to protect him, but he needs to deal with someone doing something nice for him and just-”

 

“We don’t live in California any more.” As soon as it escaped his mouth Cas regretted it. He wanted to suck the words back in and lock them away. Dean wouldn’t forgive this.

  
“What? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I don’t know. Dean- he won’t say why. Not a real reason yet anyway. So don’t…” Cas sighed. “Don’t tell him you know, okay? I’ve been trying to get him to tell you himself.”

 

“Where are you that this is such a big deal?”

 

“Nebraska.”

 

“Well, shit. You should have told me you’re that close, Cas.”

 

“I know, but-”

 

“Dean.”

 

Cas took a deep breath. It was all out already anyway. “He’s not okay, Sam.”

 

All Cas could hear from the other end of the line was the shuffle of paper- maybe pages being flipped? before a soft, “I know. Do I need to come back?”

 

“I don’t think so. But don’t ask him to come there, either.”

 

“Okay. Is he taking care of you at least?”

 

“We’re good I think. He took off when I suggested calling you, but otherwise-”

 

Sam laughed. “Otherwise okay?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Sam said a goodbye and Cas debated whether or not he should try to get a hold of Dean. Ultimately the plan to let Dean pout it out won and Cas went back to grading exams.

 

********************

 

Lunch came and went as well as the stack Cas had to grade. He took a quick shower, craning the entire time for a tiny hint of the impala pulling into the driveway or the sound of the front door, but even a few hours after that there was nothing from Dean.

 

Cas tried a text, then awhile later a call. He replayed the previous days, the conversation that morning and knew that he should have dropped the whole subject and waited until Dean picked it up on his own. He didn’t want Sam to know how close they were for some reason, and just because he hadn’t discussed it with Cas didn’t make it a bad reason.

 

Cas tried again: **If you’re really that angry at least tell me why.**

 

And later

 

**Tell me where you are. I’ll meet you.**

 

And even later

 

**Please just let me know you’re okay**

 

And when even that went unanswered, Cas called Sam.

 

“Twice in one day? Did you get him to come around?”

 

“He hasn’t been home yet.” Cas couldn’t rouse anything more than monotone. Giving the situation more than that meant this was a real problem, a serious problem, and maybe not one that came out okay. “He’s not answering anything. I told him to…. you know, let me know at least that he’s okay, but…”

 

“I can come up there.”

 

Cas shook his head though Sam couldn’t see him. If Sam was at their house when Dean came home then it was all over. If he didn’t and Dean was-

 

“Okay.” Cas said.

 

“Cas, it’s going to be okay. It’s still early, he likes to drive… but you just- if he comes home text me- I’ll turn around and he never has to know you called me. And if not, I’ll be there soon. Address?”

 

Cas gave it to him and went to stand in the window while he listened to Sam rattle off instructions about calling the hospitals. “It will make you feel better to know he’s not there, okay? Cas?”

 

“Okay.”

 

But when Sam hung up and Cas called the hospitals and there was no Dean Winchester it just made him worry that Dean had done the thing he said he’d never do and left him all alone.

 

The next thing he heard was loud knocking and he jumped up from the couch automatically thinking police, but completely stunned that it was Sam.

 

“He’s not back?”

 

Cas shook his head, his eyes the only thing to give away his upset over the last few hours.

 

“And no messages?”

 

Cas double checked his phone, because he legitimately wasn’t sure. “No.”

 

“Asshole.” Sam faked a thin smile. “So this is the place, huh?”

 

“It will be. It’s a fixer-upper, but Dean wanted a project like this. This room is done and we’re half way through the kitchen.”

 

“It will be nice when it’s finished.”

 

“It will be nice when your brother comes to bed without paint in his hair.” Cas’s eyes dropped and he sagged onto the couch. He couldn’t talk about it, about this back and forth he and Dean did, where Dean would pull so far away that it nearly broke him. He had said a long while before that he’d take Dean any way he could have him, and now this much further into this life together, this part of it was whittling him away into the portion of humanity he had once pitied.

 

“Do you think he will ever feel the same for me? The way I feel for him?”

 

“That probably depends on exactly how you feel about Dean, Cas.”

 

Cas laughed dryly. “Love? That thing?”

 

Sam’s eyebrows popped. “Are you guys calling it that?”

 

“We mostly call it fucking each other.”

 

Sam didn’t blink. “But what is it really?”

 

Cas was the one to look away. There weren’t words, and he finally really understood what it meant when people said that. “I don’t know. I don’t even really care what it’s called. I want him to feel the same, though.”

 

“He loves you, Cas. I don’t think you even know for how long. Since before the mark- I know that much.”

 

Cas laughed. He couldn’t help it- as dire as the situation was, Sam had clearly lost his mind.

 

“I’m serious.” Sam said. “And you know Dean- he doesn’t say it. He probably won’t ever say it.”

 

Ever. That was true. He had never expected those three words to legitimately pass Dean Winchester’s lips, but this thing where he left without a word and refused to respond after a truly urgent and gentle request to just say he was okay- that left Cas feeling the disparity in their relationship.

 

“Do you want something to drink, Sam?” Cas stood and walked to the kitchen without really waiting for an answer. He had to do something because at the moment it felt like everything he and Dean had been together for months and months now had crashed to his feet.

 

“Hey, Cas. Cas!” Sam called and when Cas reached the doorway into the living room the front door pushed open and there was Dean.

 

Dean’s eyes were bright on Cas and he took a few steps toward him. “Cas, I’m sorry, I-” he stopped dead when he caught sight of Sam and he looked back to Cas with accusation in his eyes.

 

“You said you were going to let me call him!”

 

“Dean, just-” Sam started, but Dean just got louder over him, refusing to be talked down by his younger brother.

 

“You shut the hell up, and you-” he swung back to Cas. “- tell me why the hell you called him!”

 

“So I didn’t have to be alone when I found out you were dead, asshole!”

 

It came out in that ugly true sentence and he couldn’t see Dean take it in. Cas retreated to the kitchen and when even that was too close, out into the cold through the back door.

 

This was it. Heartbreak. There had been a few times before when he thought he had that feeling pinpointed, but no- here it was in this moment where all the nebulous thoughts that had furrowed through his brain throughout the day came together to form one giant truth: that Dean didn’t care enough, maybe couldn’t care enough. And the worst of it was that he couldn’t even be mad at Dean. They had both laid out the facts of their brokenness and agreed that neither of them would recover from that past. They had set forward together hoping that they knew each other well enough to understand what it would be like between them, but then Castiel had mistaken it for love when it had really been camaraderie and dependence and sex-

 

“Cas?”

 

He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to give him room to talk. “Why didn’t you let me know you were okay?” He meant it all stronger than it came out.

 

“My phone died. Honest truth. And I should have found a way to let you know sooner than now that I was okay.”

 

“You didn’t come home.”

 

“I didn’t. I should have.”

 

Cas heard a careful step behind him on the half-rotted wood porch. It was going to be the first thing they replaced after the interior was finished. He willed Dean not to take another, but he did.

 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could say that big enough.”

 

This is over. It repeated on a loop through Cas’s head. He wanted to say it out loud and was simultaneously terrified at the thought. He could feel Dean just behind him. If he said what his brain was feeding him it would be over in a second. Dean would walk out again and he wouldn’t come back a second time. Cas tried to stall what he knew he had to say.

 

“Cas, please. Say something.” Dean was in front of him then, and it all came pouring out of Cas.

 

“I waited for you. I knew you would be angry if I told him about the house, but-”

 

“I’m not angry. I’m sorry.”

 

“Stop apologizing! You’re just trying to smooth things over so I won’t end things right now.” Cas shook with every word, but he spit it all out- all the anger and fear and worry that had multiplied over the hours alone forced the words out of his head. “I am always here for you but you leave me over and over again, Dean, and hurt me every time.”

 

Dean’s face went marble-still until his chin started to shake just a few seconds later.

 

“Cas... you don’t mean that,” he whispered.

 

Cas took a step back toward the door, instant regret flooding his body, but Dean grabbed his arms. “Cas, you can’t go. Please. I need you.”

 

And those words- _those old words_ \- punched Cas in the gut. He pulled away, leaving Dean gaping after him on the porch as he rushed inside, pushing past Sam and up the stairs. He heard the door slam and Dean yell for him, followed by “I’m not going anywhere!” Cas closed the bedroom door against it and breathed deep.

 

Cas knew Dean’s sentence was meant to have a few more words. _For now. This time._ He never meant to run, but he would run again, over and over while Cas waited back there in the life they’d built. Dean had always run and always would, and Cas knew it. They had agreed that they couldn’t ask each other to change at this point, but here he was, punishing Dean for one of his primary reactions. The space Cas had carved between them gaped wide, stretching into a chasm they couldn’t cross back to each other.

 

“Cas, please.” Dean was quiet now, just on the other side of the door. “Just talk to me?” he asked.

 

Cas closed his eyes against the request, but he opened the door and went to sit on the bed before Dean even realized the door was open.

 

Dean entered the dim room and closed the door behind himself and then stood there staring at it.

 

“I don’t mean to hurt you, Cas. I just need to drive sometimes and… please don’t end this.” Dean turned to him and Cas caught the desperation spread plain on his face.

 

“Dean…” He stood and took a few steps to meet him, but Dean was faster. He met him and crushed Cas in a hug, kissing him, holding his face in his hands.

 

“Please, Cas.” Dean said.

 

“I know what we said when we got together. I can’t ask you to stop-”

 

“I won’t take off on you like that anymore.”  Dean insisted and kissed him and Cas could feel his nervousness in the hesitant press of his lips.

 

Cas wasn’t sure he could keep to that promise, but the words were at least an effort, and the worry evident in Dean’s touch was better than the words Cas knew he’d never get.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate your comments.
> 
> You can find more of my work at captainawesomeellie.tumblr.com


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